Tombstone epitaph., 1887-09-17

horriblel Get me a drink, captain; get me drink! That is all shall ever want. l shall not get away from here."
 Capt. Milney dismounted. He had Q few precious drops of water in his canteen -hOarded for hours against his own thirst His friend, Maj. Galton, he found was shot in the breast--how badly could not be told. He was quickly relieved so far as half dozen swallows of the life giving water could do it.
 God bless you, Mihey!" he cried. "YOu've done me the last service shall receive in life. God bless you, my friend! | And now go on. You can't help these poor fellows here, know; you can't help me any further. Go on with your regi- ment and leaye us. But here, Milney take this letter, and when you are back in Gods Ohio country give it to Nina Clark, | and tell her that her promise made man of me when I was nigh desperation and despair. Tell her, say God bless her for l itr'
 "Mina Clarkr' exclaimed Capt. Mil ney, starting back. "Mina Clark! Is there no mistake9 I thought it was''-
 "No-no-Mina Clark can't tell you now, Milney. I'm growing weak. Good by, Milney-gOodby!"
 If any inward trouble showed itself in the captains face none could see it in the | gloom. He was silent but an instant, and then said slowly and firmly, but in 8 greatly altered voice:
 Mai. Galton, Pm going to put you on my horse and forward you to Chattanooga. l You shall be your own messenger to Nina | Clark. You have something to live for, and you will live! While Lit does not matter"
 Had the major known that Capt Mil | ney was himself wounded-a painful hurt | in the foot, not dangerous, but disabling but they would not have swerved the cap tain. AS it was, the unexpected turn seemed to give the major new lease of life. In an instant he had resolved to live | he who a moment before had bidden his friend goodby forever. Astride the l captains horse he seemed to get yet l another lease of life, and all this stood him in good stead. The troops, tired and | dispirited as they were, moved rapidly on the road, and the majors horse kept pace | with them. Long before the night was | gone Maj. Galton was safe in an ambu- lance and on the way to Chattanooga with not thought of anything but rest and sleep.
 And Capt. Milneys Why, the captain fared badly. He had already been too much about on his injured foot, and it was swollen and stiff. He started to hobble along after his men, but it went so hard that in half an hour he gave it up and lay down by the roadside, mile or two be- hind the rearmOst of the retreating soldiers. It seemed almost as if Mai. Cations new life and spirit had been ab- stracted from the captains store, leaving the latter ambitionless and despairing. "I am whippedr' he said to himself, as he lay down and gave up to weariness and pain. "I am whipped; but not by the enemy back there. No; woman did itr' At daylight next morning Capt. Milney was wounded prisoner of war, bound for some southern military prison. 'T am whipped" /" he said, as on the night before, and prepared as we'll as he could to take 1t philosophically.
 Seven or eight months afterward the captain awoke one morning from the de- lirium of a long fever. He was in hos pital near Washington. When he first became conscious things about him looked almost as strange as the fantastic visions of that dream haunted fever land from which he had just emerged. All things strange, eXcept--ah! except the female figure at the side of his cot That was familiar enough; 1t was Nina Clark. She was reading, and he had been looking at her and wondering dreamily for some time before she turned her head and saw that he was awake. Then he asked the question that was uppermost in his mind.
 "Where is Major-Maj. Galtonf'' he asked
 "Oh, Charleyr' she cried, glad tears streaming from her eyes. "You are con- scious again, thank God You will get we'll, dearl But the dreadful things you have been saying while out of your head. The major is here, and comes in every day to see you. But you must not talk now, and I must not talk to you. You to sleep. Not word now-only, Charley, if anything is in your head about Mai. Cation and-and I-such as you've been talking about in your fever, it's all mis- take, Charley-a cruel, cruel mistake!'
 We'll, he found that out in the afternoon of the same day when he saw Maj. Galton and his wife-his wife, who was not Nina Clark. He discovered that Mina's prom ise to the major-that promise which had so exalted the major and so wrecked the captain-was simply promise to set things right with Cations lady love, who in his absence was being influenced by an unworthy rival. Doing this service in- volved for Nina the sacrifice of some maiden pride and reserve but at the ma jor's urgent petition she did it, and even raised him to the seventh heaven of happy anticipation by writing him her promise to deliver his girl safe into his arms when ever he came home.
 The captain came to think that he had jumped at a conclusion too quickly, and that little faith in the girl whose solemn troth he had would have saved him trip to Libby prison and saved him also the fever which attacked him the very day his ex- change was effected. But then where would the major have been if the Last Man at Chickamauga had not lent him horse?-"R. L. K." in Cincinnati Com. mercial Gazette.
 In rov, ko